If I take a tumble, I'll mae quite a splash, but at least I won't smash against the deck and make a mess. Still be dead, though.

Well,' I shrug, all innocent, 'we all ride our little hobbyhorses, don't we, Mr. Peel?

I close my eyes, hoping to slip into the same dream again, but then that never happens, does it?

You was talkin' out of yer head last night, too," chortles Davy. "No one's gonna fancy me. I'm gonna be ugly and no on'es gonna fancyme!" he mimics, mincing about the hammock. "You are such a rum cove, Jacky, for thinkin' such things when yer just about beat t' death! Fancy me? Fancy me? Jacky, no one's gonna fancy us, we're all gonna end up lookin' like Snag!" "Which is how a salty dog sailor's supposed to look," says Willy with a firm nod. "And you're halfway there, Jack-o!" crows Tink. Ah, the sweet comfort of friends.

When in Boston, I shall be able to take you out to dinner, if not to bed. I should greatly prefer the latter, but I must accept my lot.

A girl what's born for hangin' ain't likely to be drowned.

Hmmmm...There certainly are a lot of pretty boys in this world.